


Drown Soda

by hellhoundsprey



Series: spn kink bingo 2020 [4]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Child Abuse, Coercion, Grooming, Homophobia, M/M, Minor Violence, Pedophilia, Puberty, Sexting, Sexual Experimentation, Underage Sex, Webcam/Video Chat Sex, error 404: no stereotypical top/bottom dynamics found
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:40:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22597954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellhoundsprey/pseuds/hellhoundsprey
Summary: Jared warms up to a stranger on the internet.2020 kink bingo square 23: skype sex
Relationships: Colin Ford/Jared Padalecki, Jensen Ackles/Colin Ford/Jared Padalecki
Series: spn kink bingo 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1602964
Comments: 9
Kudos: 56
Collections: SPN Kink Bingo 2020, Shota





	Drown Soda

**Author's Note:**

  * For [saltandbyrne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltandbyrne/gifts).



> 95% of sexual activity happens solely between Colin (13) and Jared (13), and the 5% with Jensen (37) ends safely. He does groom the hell out of them before though.
> 
> Reader discretion is advised. Please stay safe. Read ALL the tags.
> 
> I owe you _all_ the Colin headcanons, so this is for you, dearest salt ❤.

He doesn’t click ‘next’ right away. When he thinks back to it today, he tries to tell himself it’s because it wasn’t someone’s dick or someone staring right back with as much emptiness as him.

God. What he’d give for it to be as easy as that.

Jared says, after a while of listening, of watching, “What song is that?”

Colin doesn’t stir an inch from Jared’s Switch, over on the bed.

The stranger says, “‘[Creep](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zFYEYRcjK2g)’,” and picks up his joint to suck on it. “Radiohead.”

~

The summer layers over their land, airless, breathless. Jared drinks too little and never pees. It feels like a big deal. He’s growing too big for his bones, his skin.

They’re sharing the smokes Colin stole from his big brother while Jared’s newfound obsession replays over his headphones for the hundredth time today.

He might be in love.

Colin tells him, “This sucks.”

Jared shrugs.

“Can we, like, skip at your place?”

“Sure.”

Colin’s some white trailer trash Jared’s mom picked up at Sunday mass like a homeless kitten, brought him home to feed one fateful night. So, ultimately, them meeting was an act of God.

Jared’s barely managed to lock his poster-covered door by the time Colin’s licking around his gums, yanks at his already-loose belt. Colin’s bare from the waist down with one good tug.

Col’s smile is always a dare for him. “Put it in your mouth.”

Jared drops to his knees and locks eyes with him as he does as he’s told.

They like the same videos. The same girls. The same type of ice cream.

Colin’s eyes glaze over just so. His hands are in Jared’s hair soon enough. Jared lets him despite the annoyance, (maybe) just because they both know Colin will return the favor.

It lasts longer in the videos, but those people are actors, after all. Jared doesn’t mind.

~

“Can I play Pokémon?”

“Sure.”

“Sweet.” Col’s got the Switch already turned on and ready in his skinny hands.

Jared re-reads the website for the millionth time.

_contact for business inquiries only_

The numbers scream at him, laugh at him. According to them, he’s either not good enough or too much of a chicken; they can’t seem to decide.

His head swims.

~

“Amen.”

“Amen.”

“Amen.”

“Amen.”

Jared’s fork shovels meatloaf into him with zero gusto and a hundred percent savage hunger. There’s never enough food for him these days.

Colin exclaims, “This is great, Mrs. P,” with his soft-boy voice. He quickly figured out how that one gets him the most sympathy, the most food and little extras.

Mom beams with every ounce of love she still has to give after a son like Jared and his two way less despicable siblings (who are with their respective friends tonight). “Thanks, sweetheart. Have as much as you want. I made plenty.”

It’s not like Colin doesn’t eat. The calories just never find anywhere to stick.

Dad elbows Jared.

“Thanks for cooking,” he says, without looking up from his plate.

They ride across town to the trailer park; Jared on his bike and Colin on the back of Jared’s bike. His own got stolen, again, and he declined Jared’s parents offer for a new one (maybe for your birthday, sweetheart). It’s no use, he’d say.

Jared knows there’s a secret box slowly but surely filling with cash—gifted or stolen or found. He knows the exact spot, and he’s the only living soul Colin said he’d ever trust with that.

By the book, they’re the best of friends. Even Jared, who’s never even had a regular friend before, knows that. There’s just some things you _know_.

“See you at school.”

“Yeah. Night.”

“Night.”

Jared doesn’t look back over his shoulder, but he hears the heavy, slow footsteps in the gravel up to the trailer, the careful squeak of its door. It clicks shut when he’s already out of sight.

His room is stuffed to the brim. Without Colin though, it’s as empty as the bottom of the sea—if there’s an opposite to claustrophobia, this is it.

Jared shuts the blinds, kicks off his sneakers, his jeans. Ceiling fan on full blast and his TV comes alive, muted on Rick And Morty. He keeps the lights off, flings himself into his dirty bed and gets comfortable in front of his phone.

It’s eleven PM and some change. Today’s homework never left his backpack and it won’t, even though he’ll stay up for another three to four hours.

_contact for business inquiries only_

_contact for business inquiries only_

_contact for business inquiries only_

Jared’s thumb had marked, copied, even pasted the number before. He’s saved it under several names, deleted them again.

Today’s choice is a casual ‘Jensen’.

Jared’s pulse is going strong. He calms himself by re-reading the ‘about me’ section. It’s got a nice, confident flow to it and he can very well imagine hearing it in the guy’s voice, even though it’s been a couple of days now:

_Just a hands-on, self-taught performer. Books never preferred me, so I went out there and started doing my thing. Fifteen years and I don’t regret a day of it._

It’s easy to imagine himself in that same position. Hell, this could be him in a couple of years. Jared doesn’t fancy himself a singer, but he _could_ play a guitar…probably. Mom would love that—her Jared Tristan, learning an instrument.

The chat is open—empty, waiting. He’s been here before. Never held out for this long. Maybe tonight’s the night?

He begins to tap out ‘hey’ and stalls then. A surge of anxiety and he’s thought of the words, he knows what he wants to say but somehow once he has to type them out, they garble into monkey-speech, illiterate and dumb and he wants to bang his head into a wall for the remainder of the night.

This sucks.

‘I saw you on that random chat thing. it’s me, jay. do you have a SoundCloud?’

“‘It’s me, Jay,’” he mocks himself. “Oh my fucking God, this is bullshit.”

But it’s the truth, and the only thing Jared can imagine the guy would remember him by. (A lie. But he doesn’t want to spell out ‘I’m that kid’.)

He probably gets dumb messages like that all the time. Doesn’t even bother reading them, let alone reply.

Jared hits ‘send’ in a brain-dead moment of ‘you know what, why the fuck not?’ and the dread gets a strong chokehold on him literal fragments of seconds after.

What did you do.

Oh my God _what did you DO._

Jared shoves the phone under his pillow and rolls to his side, fetal position.

He’s not gonna read it anyway. There’s no way. Whatever. What-the-fuck-EVER.

Mere moments later, he feels a faint buzz.

His heart goes into overload.

No. It can’t be. How? Why?

Don’t read it, it’s probably brutal anyway. You shouldn’t have done that. And it said for business inquiries only! You fucked up, don’t bother.

Unless…?

He unlocks the screen and is right back where he left off. Except that there’s a reply now.

Jared’s eyes soak up the words.

The tiny voice in his head triumphs: _see? Told you so!_

~

Colin skips the song. And the next. And the next.

“Hey!”

“It sucks,” Colin decides. “How old are you, fifty?”

“They’re classics. And they’re covers, anyway.”

“Who the fuck cares?”

“Listen, this is _my_ phone, so I decide.”

Colin’s eyes tighten.

Jared hesitates. “Two songs, then you pick.”

Colin decides, “Fine,” while Jared navigates back.

They share the last smoke back and forth. Colin’s bare legs swing from the bleachers.

“Can we go to the lake after school?”

“Sure.”

“Cool.” Col nods. “Can we stop by your house? Your mom can make us some sandwiches.”

“Yeah, I’ll text her.”

“Cool.”

Colin scratches at the meanest of the infected mosquito bites on his neck.

He sighs. “It’s too fucking hot, man.”

~

_hey, jay.  
cool to hear from you.  
what’s up?_

Jared’s stomach is in constant somersaults. Colin hasn’t addressed it. Maybe it’s not written all over his face, even though it really really feels like it.

“Leave it,” orders Colin right up his ear. His baby chest presses between the hard wings of Jared’s shoulder blades and in the water, a hand ghosts straight for Jared’s cock. “Who’s ‘Jensen’?”

“Some guy,” trivializes Jared, which is such a blatant lie but then again there’s nothing more important than anything touching between his legs. The screen flicks to blackness and Jared’s curling his ass out to hump Col’s fist.

The other hand generously cups Jared’s balls. “Is that the SoundCloud guy?”

“Maybe.”

Colin’s hands are experts at this point, but he can be a real bitch. “Y’know, real musicians don’t just have a fucking SoundCloud.”

It’s not fair having this discussion on the verge of orgasm, so Jared doesn’t disagree, just mutes up and shudders at Colin slipping his fingers from balls down his taint to rub at his asshole.

“Is he legit?” Colin asks, all casual while he’s massaging Jared like he’s got plans Jared wasn’t specifically entrusted with yet. “Like, has he done an album or anything?”

Jared manages, “I dunno,” and spills into the water.

They have the sandwiches out on their towels, right by the drowning hazard signpost.

Colin girl-scoffs. “Oh my God, can you put that away for like, a second?!”

Jared frowns and doesn’t look up from his text conversation. “Why does it piss you off so badly? You play with my Switch all the time.”

“We didn’t bring it,” Col bites, “and I don’t wanna, anyway.” A pause. “Ja- _red_!”

“ _What_?!”

Jared glares at him and is met with just the same amount of spite.

Colin tells him, “If he’s so cool, why don’t you just hang out with _him_?”

Confusion knits itself into the creases between Jared’s eyebrows. “What is your _problem_? Look, I’m putting it down, okay? Happy?”

Colin’s octopus-arms gather his meager belongings in one harsh swipe. He’s up on his feet and in his clothes in the blink of an eye.

Jared hollers, “Hey!” but Colin’s already stomping off—wet hair, his saggy backpack on his bony shoulders.

Left behind, Jared shouts another, “Fine!” before he stews in anger and—which makes him even more furious—remorse.

Col’s barely made it back to the asphalted street by the time Jared catches up on him on his bike.

They share annoyed glances before Colin condescends to climbing the bicycle carrier.

It doesn’t take much power to bike their combined weight across town, but it’s Jared’s job and he takes pride in it.

Colin’s got his arms around him and his cold ear pressed into the hollow space between Jared’s shoulder blades.

~

Many orgasms fit into a two-hour timeframe. It depends on the day, their energy level. It’s always on-off, on-off.

Colin’s got bruises in weird places, always on the edge of just-faded, a ‘come again later, please’. Jared traces them with fingertips, raspberries them if they’re being in a goofy mood (which is more often than not, after). Colin always likes that.

Jared watches Colin’s arm extend to above them, watches the both of them looking straight into the front camera. Col presses the shutter release.

“Cute,” he says about his own work of art. He opens the pic immediately, zooms in. Jared’s edging closer, temple to temple.

Skinny, shaggy-haired boys with too-big hands. Same nose, same lips.

There’s rumors they’re secretly related, if not twins. The two of them might supply the main fuel for said rumors. Both Jared’s and Colin’s blood brothers are disappointments.

“It’s grown,” says Colin, zooming in as close as he can on the mark sitting left to Jared’s nose.

“No way.”

Col exclaims, “Totally,” and zooms in-out in quick recession, until he has to laugh.

“You’re so dumb. A baby.”

“At least I don’t have a tumor on my face.”

“Shut up!”

Colin throat-laughs, kid-high.

~

_you were gone all of a sudden  
everything OK?_

_yeah sorry_

Jared’s taken the mother-ordered bath and already misses the smell of lake and spit on him.

_my friend came over  
but he’s gone now_

_I see  
well  
friends are important, I get it  
best friend, or?_

_best friend ever_

Jared big-smiles into the artificial light of his phone screen.

_we’re, like, twins  
he’s the best  
his name’s colin_

_he sure sounds great  
what did you guys get up to?_

_the lake  
and just, like  
chilling later_

Jensen texts, ‘nice,’ and Jared thinks he might never want to go to sleep again, ever. Texting with Jensen is always so much fun—Jensen asks all kinds of questions, and he always has cool replies to Jared’s questions in return. Plus: he’s, like, always awake. Jared never has to wait for a reply for longer than five minutes.

Jared’s been hesitant at first. Adults don’t usually want to listen to his brain-barfs. But Jensen’s like a friend. He’s pretty amazing.

_we took a pic  
u wanna see?_

_sure  
the two of you?_

_yeah_

Jared sends it.

_totally twins, right?  
guess which one is me_

_you guys are /handsome/, wow  
just wow  
poor girls in your class ((:  
you’re on the left?_

_yeah!  
and thanks_

_you honestly look like twins_

_right? we get that all the time_

_crazy.  
you sure your parents didn’t…?  
hah joke joke_

_nah my parents aren’t that cool lol_

_aka every parent ever  
how old are you again?_

Jared hesitates.

_16_

_aw man  
to be that young again!  
I’m an old man now_

_lol whaaat  
no way lol  
you don’t look old at all_

_take a guess_

Jared doesn’t have to think for long; he’s thought about this for a while, after all. There’s no date of birth on Jensen’s webpage.

_26?_

_wow!  
good guess, bud!_

_wait, honestly?_

_;)  
too old?_

_lol no  
why?  
age is just a number anyway_

_haha  
that’s the spirit!  
but honestly  
you guys should be models or something_

_lolololol  
no way_

_the beauty marks!  
killing me_

_loooooooool  
I hate them  
he hates his, too_

_you really shouldn’t man  
they’re super cute  
people tattoo these on their faces these days y’know  
you should feel lucky to have them naturally  
…says I, hating my freckles lol_

_freckles are different!  
mine look like dirt_

_bullshit_

_show those freckles then  
mr confident_

_haha ouch  
well OK  
wait  
gotta find a good one_

Any pic is bound to be a good one with a face like Jensen’s.

Jared revels in the glory of the one he gets—a less shaggy-haired version of what he remembers from the video chat, buff, tanned. And, yeah.

_lololololol ok but your freckles are cute  
and tiny  
you can barely see em_

_lol look  
jay  
you don’t have to lie to me to look nice ok_

_I’m honest!  
also clearly YOU should be a model  
this looks like it’s from a magazine or something_

_I mean I /did/ do some gigs back in the day_

_really??_

_sure  
you wanna see?_

~

Colin’s face distorts with every new pic.

He decides, as he puts the phone down, “Dude, he’s catfishing you.”

“Cat…what?”

“Happened to my mom. He’s probably, like, three-hundred pounds and a neckbeard.”

Jared says, “No,” and snatches the phone back from his friend. “I’ve seen him live. The video chat, remember?”

Col shrugs, completely caught up in his know-better attitude that Jared _hates_. “You can fake videos. There’s software where you can put, like, Trump’s or some porn star’s face on anything. It’s fake.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Jensen’s _real_ ,” Jared half-shouts, “if you wanna believe it or not!”

“Oh yeah? Why don’t you video-call him right now, see what happens! If he chickens out, he’s a fake _for sure_!”

Jared’s already agitated heart thuds, hard. “Sure!” he barks with his thumbs tapping away. “Sure, you know, why not? He’ll pick up. He’s gonna.”

Jared clears his throat and extends his arm for a more flattering angle, just in case—feels Colin tucked right next to him, sees him staring into the lens alongside with him.

The phone rings. And rings. And rings.

And rings.

Colin scoffs. “See?”

Jared bites, “No,” and, “he’s gonna pick up.”

Please.

Please pick up.

Another ring.

The screen flickers as if the call disconnects—but it does the exact opposite.

Jared sees himself and Colin’s eyes grow wide in their respective corner of the screen as a bearded Jensen appears, complete with freckles and moussed-up hair and a blinding smile.

“ _Hey_ ,” they hear, and Jensen puts two and two together then and waves at them. “ _Hi, guys. What’s up?_ ”

“Just a, uh. A test,” stutters Jared.

“ _A test? For what?_ ”

“Uh, nothing, really.”

Jensen’s gorgeous. Is sitting somewhere outside and the sun paints him beautifully. He’s in a soft t-shirt and sips from a huge coffee cup.

“ _So._ ” He sounds morning-rough. It’s currently four PM. “ _Did I pass?_ ”

Jared confesses, “Yeah,” and feels a smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, totally.”

“ _Awesome_ ,” says Jensen, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Colin’s still silent. “ _I’m about to head to the studio, get some work done. I can put you on speaker in the car though if you wanna keep chatting? I don’t mind the company._ ”

Jared says, “Nah, it’s fine,” and Colin jumps in, “We gotta do homework now, anyway,” and Jared wants to punch them both.

Jensen tells them, “ _Alright_ ,” and, “ _thanks for the call. Good to see you, Jay. Bye, Col._ ”

They simultaneously blurt, “Bye,” and Colin ends the call with a quick stab of his index finger.

A silence layers over them, uncomfortable and heated and pregnant.

Jared ends it with a sharp, “Told you,” and Colin bites back, “Whatever!”

They are so shocked that they actually sit down to do some homework. Jared’s itching with all sorts of things, of thoughts—Jensen’s real, and he’s right and Colin was wrong, and Jensen’s super awesome and they’re kind of friends now. He’s friends with an awesome, super cool musician guy—basically, a rock star.

Jesus.

“You think he’s good-lookin’?”

“I mean, kinda.” Jared pauses, tries, “He’s done model jobs before.”

“He’s kinda old.”

“Not _that_ old.”

“He’s got a _beard_.”

“What? So does your mom.”

Colin laughs. “Shut up.” Jared grins back at him. The world is in order again, at last. “How’d he know my name though?”

“I told him. It kinda came up.”

Colin says, “Huh,” and erases the middle of the sentence he not-finished scribbling in his notebook. “Put on some music.”

Jared picks one of Jensen’s Elvis covers and the smooth boom of his voice claims the air, easy as that.

~

Weekends are everything, especially when Colin’s allowed to stay over.

They live off junk food, energy drinks, porn and video games. Who needs sleep?

“Wait, wait.”

Jared pops off his best friend’s dick, a sweaty hand in his hair and his own dick jammed hard between his belly and the sheets. He watches Colin watching himself shuddering with the urge to come. He’s been holding out on it for God knows how long now. Jared can’t wrap his head around why he’d _wait_.

Col orders, “Okay, slow,” and Jared swallows him back down.

Colin’s on his back, stark naked and sweating despite the ceiling fan. One of his fave videos is replaying on Jared’s tablet, again, but he’s only passingly watching, if at all. He’s shivering with every drag of Jared’s tongue.

“Do my, uhm.”

Jared knows, so he dips lower to lap at Colin’s asshole. Col whimpers.

“More. Do it more.”

Hands back in his hair and he’s getting pulled in, licks harder, pointedly, as if he wanted to get inside. The muffled girl-voice to his left is hitting a new note.

Col shudders, “J-Jay,” and Jared feels him pulsing under-around his mouth, lips, teeth, tongue, can smell the acid-soap-scent of come.

Still lapping, because Colin’s still not said a word about stopping, he tries to catch a glimpse of that face, finds it panting and lashes fluttering and cheeks splotched with red.

“C-can y-you…”

Jared wrestles his arm free from underneath him to replace his tongue with his thumb—just like in the videos.

Col makes a heart-break noise.

Mumbles, “Yes,” from in between the webbing of his own fingers and tilts his legs back and away some more, Jared’s face mushed into the tight meat on his inner thigh. “More.”

Jared sinks his thumb in all the way, just as blind as he is enthusiastic.

“You’re hot,” he slurs, “inside.”

Colin nods to nothing. “Fuck me. With your fingers.”

Jared’s brain short-circuits.

That kind of vocabulary isn’t something they’ve done so far. No real reason, just turned out like that. But, hell.

It’s hot.

Colin makes puppy-noises, whispered begs like, “Don’t stop,” and Jared doesn’t, but he’s seen enough clips to know you don’t do this with your goddamn thumb.

Colin’s legs and arms wrap around him upon him replacing his thumb with his index and middle, and Colin gasps and it’s kinda dry, kinda rough, but Colin moans, “Oh,” and doesn’t say ‘stop’.

Jared’s visual memory does its best to translate to his muscles.

Judging by the increasing heat between their bodies, he’s not doing the worst of jobs with it.

Jared gets his mouth around one of Colin’s pinprick-nipples and lick-sucks at it just because it’s there and his mouth is so suddenly so fucking lonely. Col groans.

“Feels so good.”

Jared keeps going until he can’t ignore the numbing sting in his wrist anymore. Half-rolls away for a bunch of tissues and scrunches his nose.

Col’s right where he left him, looking at him with big, wet eyes.

“You wanna try?”

Jared says, “No,” and wraps his hand around his own cock.

Col smiles, “Okay,” and Jared’s already coming. A chuckle. “That’s fast.”

“Shut up, not my fault that that was hot as hell.”

“Felt pretty good.”

“You sure liked it.”

“Hm, yeah.”

Col throws his arm across Jared for a cuddle, nestles his chin atop of Jared’s shoulder. Jared tilts his head until his cheek touches the crown of Colin’s head.

The video plays on, forgotten.

~

“He sent a new one.”

“Show.” Colin hums with appreciation. “Cool.”

“Not only ‘cool’. He’s a genius.”

Jared hits replay, so Jensen sings again. His thick, bare arm flexes as he plays the guitar in his lap. Jared is proud—of Jensen, of himself. He did this. This was recorded for _him_.

_so awesome!!!_

_thanks ;)  
col think so too?_

_yeah_

_hah thank you guys  
so what’s happening tonight?  
any plans?_

_not really  
this town sucks ass  
super boring  
just chillin_

_haha booo  
get creative then_

_lol we’ll prob just play games until we pass out_

_sounds like a solid plan  
enjoy!_

Jensen sends the occasional pic or short video throughout the night while Jared occupies COD and Colin works on his Pokédex. There’s a party happening or something—other people appear in the pics; looks like the inside of a club. Jensen winks from behind pitchers of beer with his arm around a friend, and another, and whomever.

_you should def hit me up when you turn 18  
so I can show you guys around the club scene ;)_

_cool, sure  
just like another million years to wait lol  
RIP us_

_two years ain’t that much bud ;)  
time flies  
also nobody bats an eye here anyway  
I know the bouncers. ID not required haha_

_lol OK  
cool_

_are you ‘busy’ or something haha?  
all those one-worded answers :)_

_just gaming_

_ok sure ;)_

_lol what do you think I’m doing_

_;)  
nothing  
y’know  
boy stuff_

_lolololol whaaat_

Jared scoffs. Apparently the first sound from him in ages, because Colin pipes up. “What?”

“He thinks I’m jerking off or something.”

“Ew, what?”

“Yeah, I dunno, I think he’s drunk.”

Colin’s up and next to him. “Show.” Colin reads. Colin frowns. “What’s his business? _Ew_. Creep.”

_col says you’re a creep_

“Hey!”

_whaaat? not cool col haha  
jus asking. nothing wrong bout any of it  
everybody does it_

Colin gives him an unamused glare. “Ew.”

Jared de-escalates:

_sure it’s cool but I’m telling you the truth  
so! gonna get back to my game now_

_you do that ;)_

_lol you’re drunk_

There’s no reply after that, so Colin moseys off and Jared re-focuses on the next round.

By the time they slip into bed, the sun already climbed atop the trees.

~

Colin’s chewing his muffin open-mouthed, one leg hiked up on the chair. Jeff scoffs in one of his more endearing tones.

“Kinda looks like a dress on you. Maybe Jared can give you some of this stuff, would fit better.”

Colin says, “Oh, I’m fine,” and pats at his nothing-tits. “It’s comfy. Love the color.”

Jeff retreats, just quiet enough that Mom can’t hear him from by the stove, “Thought pink’s your favorite,” and Jared tenses in anger and second-hand embarrassment.

Or, not-so second hand. “Very funny,” he growls. Colin is quiet.

Jeff makes kiss-noises towards them before he gets up to leave, stuffs another muffin into his stupid mouth.

Once he’s out of hearing range, Jared throws his friend an apologetic look.

“He’s a jerk,” he says, but Colin doesn’t add to it, just keeps eating, slower, in silence.  
  
Sundays are bitter-sweet. They nurse homemade lemonade out in the garden. Jared’s just finished his chore of mowing the lawn and now glistens with sweat. It burns in the blisters and pimples he’s scratched open on his back.

“Hey,” says Colin, right into the silence of the heat suffocating them. “I think I know that place.”

Jared leans closer. Col zooms in on the gravel path slithering out of frame next to a topless, post-run Jensen.

The paper straw pops from Col’s mouth. “That’s our park. The camper section.”

Jared considers. Decides, “No way.”

“Totally. My uncle had the same spot for a while.”

“No way.”

Col shrugs. “Believe it or not. It’s the truth.”

The cicadas scream from the burnt trees around them. The scent of cut grass permeates the air.

Jared’s mind is blank.

~

“Look at me.”

Col would do it even without getting his hair pulled, but Jared likes the feel of it between his fingers.

Jared pushes him further down his cock. Col gags but doesn’t pull back.

“Keep looking at me.”

Jared’s got the bigger dick, and while they don’t talk about it, it settled the parts of hierarchy the class difference couldn’t touch.

It’s actually pretty big for his age, he thinks.

He bobs Col with the grip in his hair, pumps his hips counter-rhythmic.

“So hot,” he manages, choked-off because it’s beautiful. He’s always liked that on video, even though the girls don’t drool as much. But he kinda likes that.

He grabs his phone.

“Look at the camera,” he orders, and Colin does as he’s told.

A pic first. Another. He comes while he’s a few seconds into recording a clip.

Groans, “God,” and, “fuck,” and jerks Colin off while he makes him watch himself, gasping quietly and coming faster than he’d expected himself.

He’s shaking like a kitten, wide-eyed. “Point it at your face,” he instructs, and Jared scrambles to obey as Colin scoots down.

Jared’s on half-mast again already but Colin folds his legs open and ignores it. Jared watches his face, the honest curiosity and bliss glazing his eyes over when Col drags his tongue across his asshole.

“Oh,” he says, thought-less, and Col presses his face closer to really eat him out right.

Jared’s breathing deteriorates quick and his cock aches, drools lonely on his belly, so he gets a hold of it, jerks himself quick and dirty because that’s what it wants.

Colin hums, pleased, when Jared’s body convulses with his orgasm. Climbs back up to drape his weightless body atop of Jared’s, who’s dropped his phone at this point, tired.

Colin whispers, “You’re so cute,” and Jared makes a proud noise in return.

Colin’s hair is angel-soft and smells like Jared’s shampoo.

~

Jared sucks at his tenth popsicle of today. His tongue has changed colors so much it’s settled with dark-black-violet. Drops of sweat collect on his forehead nonetheless, trickle down in occasional rivulets.

A group of girls passes him, indifferent to his presence. They laugh, bell-high, their loose summer clothes flirting with the air. They smell of artificial sweetness and Jared is being left behind.

He turns his head towards the jingle of the shop door and accepts the new popsicle.

He asks, “Did you get them?” while he gets up, and Colin just says, “Let’s go,” like he knows everything, always.

Colin doesn’t own much but his brother’s hand-me-down clothes. He always looks a little off. Jared’s never minded that. He can’t fathom why anyone would. But they don’t ever talk to Colin, so how would they know how great of a guy he is?

Colin plucks the pack of smokes from the back pocket of his too-short shorts. Jared doesn’t want to think about how Jeff was kinda right—the shirt is big enough to act as a dress on Col’s bird-bone body.

They smoke in greedy silence, safe in the shadows of the little fauna their town park is left with this deep in Texan August.

Col hisses, slaps his shin. Scratches at the already-there scab, the new itch.

Jared inhales the rest of his pop and digs into the next. He wipes his sticky hair out of his eyes, peeks across the deserted park.

“I wanna go to the beach next year,” murmurs Col, distant-near, around the nicotine, the colored sugar water. “Just get outta here. Not think about anything.”

“Can I come?”

“’Course. What would I be doing without you?”

“Well, I dunno.” Jared smiles, pleased. Flattered. “Sounded like you wanna be alone.”

“Nah. Just not here.”

“I can ask my parents. I think we have relatives down there somewhere.”

“Hm.”

“Just somewhere we can crash. We’ll be fourteen next year, I think they’ll stay out of our hair… Jeff got to go to Europe with his class when he was fourteen.”

Colin considers again, “Hm,” and scratches at a fresh-looking bruise on the inside of his thigh.

Even the air sounds searing. Water evaporates off the plants, off their skin, the earth. Insects crawl, flourish.

“We can ride our bikes around. My folks can lend one to you.” Jared pokes the inside of his cheek with the ice, bulges it out. Both Col and him are biters, but he’ll cherish this last one for as long as he can. “Go swim, whenever we want. Make a bonfire. S’mores.”

“Can we do fireworks?”

“Hell yes.”

“We could go on the fourth of July.”

“We could, yeah.”

Jared meets Col’s sweet, far-away eyes. The cigarette butt between Col’s fingers is stained blue, like the inside of his lips.

“I’d love that,” says Col, carefully, like he doesn’t want anyone to hear.

~

“[No sun, no moon or star / Just the glitter of the great white way / And the glare of city light / Where the music’s loud, she’s in the crowd / A lonely girl in the night…](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FV2LkRm3nZw)”

Jensen’s been smoking and is so deep in his music he might have forgotten he’s on camera with Jared. With anyone.

Jared’s love-drunk. Chin in both hands and he just listens, watches, revels. Nothing’s ever been like that. Been able to capture him at all, let alone _like this_.

He’ll ask Mom for guitar lessons, tomorrow. He’s gotta. How could she say no?

Jensen’s not-looking at his webcam. Blind-reaches for his joint, finds it on the first try; perfect. “You still there, buddy?”

Jared quiet-says, “Yeah.”

Jensen makes an appreciative sound, nods as he takes a long, overdue hit. “Amazing. I appreciate that.” He puts his hands back on the guitar once the joint is safe in the ashtray. He plays random notes that string together in perfection, without even trying. “Special wish? Dealer’s choice, Jay.”

“Uh. That Nirvana one you did.”

Jensen hums and flirts towards the right cords.

“[I’m not like them / But I can pretend / The sun is gone / But I have a light / The day is done / But I’m having fun / I think I’m dumb / Or maybe just happy…](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4xRuxuHjBY4)”

~

The headmaster glares with her arms crossed in front of her grossly enlarged tits. “I hope you’re proud of yourself, young man.”

Jared is so high on adrenaline he almost honest-slips his ‘yeah’.

Colin is still sobbing when Jared’s finally let out. He rushes towards him, into him, but Jared laughs, “I can walk on my own.” Not what the other three guys can say for themselves. “Would you stop crying already? Geez.”

Colin snuffles, pitifully wet, but stops with the girl-sobs.

They get cold pads from the nurse; Jared gets the huge one for his eye.

“It doesn’t even hurt,” he tries, but the nurse just sighs and slaps another into Col’s held-open hand.

“Do you want me to call your parents?”

“What? No.”

“Jared…”

“No, why? I’m fine. It’s just a bruise.”

Colin makes a face as the cold touches his split lip.

Jared assures him, “This isn’t your fault,” and feels one of his teeth being kinda…loose.

Colin just sits by the bed the nurse put Jared in, miserably, and doesn’t say anything else.

Neither of them wants to go home. Going home means explaining.

Jared’s not ready for that kind of talk. “We can, uh, hang out at the gas station.”

“With Brock? Fuck no.”

“You’ve got a better idea?”

“Yeah: _anywhere_?” Colin’s pale. They missed lunch. “Let’s go to, I dunno, the lake. _Any_ where else, Jared.”

Jared decides, “You need food,” and Colin counters, “And you need to mind your own business!”

“You look like a ghost, man…”

“Says the fucking _cyclops_ ,” bites Col, and Jared sighs because there’s no winning this.

“Okay. Okay, let me think.”

They sit in the curb by the parking lot where the little shadow that’s left around noon keeps them from adding sunstroke to their list of injuries.

Jared’s face throbs, and his brain stirs lazy. He snaps his finger. “Wait, the—Mr. Thompson.”

Colin states, “No.”

“What? Why the fuck not?”

“Just no.”

“He said you could come see him, like, whenever you needed help.”

“Well, I don’t like him.”

“Dude, we don’t have much of a choice.”

Col’s face tightens. The bloodstains on Jeff’s old shirt won’t ever wash out again.

Finally, “Okay.”

“He gave you his address, right?”

“Yeah, got it in here somewhere.” He begins to rummage around in his backpack. “Found it.”

Jared peeks at the slip of paper. “Can you walk?”

Col throws him a bitch-face. “I dunno, can _you_?”

It’s halfway across town and the exhaustion doesn’t help the decreasing push of anger and fear in Jared’s system. They sit down on a bench and Jared doesn’t feel like much of a hero anymore by the time they’ve made it.

“Colin,” their teacher says, surprised but not annoyed. “Jared.”

“Can we come in?”

“Of course.”

He gets them ice tea and has them seated at the tiny kitchen table while he throws together some sandwiches.

“I heard about it through the grapevine,” Mr. Thompson—call me Luther—tries. “I’m sorry you were punished. You did the right thing, Jared.”

Jared tongues around his loose tooth and keeps sipping his ice tea.

Child-drawn pictures adorn the fridge doors. Random polaroids show Luther, his husband and their daughter—at Disneyworld, at the playground, the Grand Canyon.

Luther cuts the crusts off without asking, throws a fatherly smile at the two of them. “Adults can be very stupid sometimes.”

Jared’s appetite surprises him. The tooth mixes enough blood into his spit that he can still donate most of his share to his friend.

Luther tries hard to look as sympathetic as possible. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Jared says, “About what,” and stacks another square of bread on Col’s rapidly-diminishing pile.

“About what happened. Why you did it.”

“I thought you heard what happened.”

“Maybe I wanna hear it from you.”

“Maybe I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Good,” decides Jared.

Colin quakes with quiet tears.

Luther and Jared both turn to look at him.

His tears fall silent and thin, leave dark spots on his already-ruined t-shirt.

“It’s not your fault,” reminds Jared, but Colin shakes his head ‘no’.

“If I…w-wasn’t… I-if w-we weren’t…”

“Look, I did it because I wanted to. They don’t get to talk to you like that. Nobody does.”

“What did they call you, Colin?”

Jared pipes up, “You _know_ what they said,” and Luther quiets down, guilty. Back to Colin, “And I’d do it again. I don’t care.” He sticks the second-last piece of sandwich in his swollen mouth and slams the other onto Colin’s plate with emphasis. “You’re my best friend, and nobody gets to talk to you like that.”

Colin keeps crying, but the atmosphere is different now. More peaceful. Jared’s said it all.

God, he’s tired.

Luther lets them watch TV, says he’s gotta pick up Beth from the kindergarten, he’ll be right back. Jared wakes to Colin worming behind him to big-spoon him.

Colin’s wrapping his twig-arms around his chest and Jared twines their fingers together. Peppa Pig argues with her parents.

The couch smells like spilled milk, and warmth, and dust.

Colin whispers, “I don’t wanna go home, Jared.”

“Stay at my place for tonight. We’ll sneak in when it’s, like, real dark out. ’S gonna be fine.”

“Neil’s gonna kill me.” Colin’s fingers tighten against Jared’s. “He’s gonna be so mad. I can’t go back there. For real, Jared.”

Jared’s brow furrows. “Your mom…?”

Colin pleads, “She never says _any_ thing.”

There’s no need for thought, just, “We’ll figure something out,” and it will be true, and things will be okay. “Nothing’s gonna happen to you, I swear.”

They spend the afternoon quietly among the Thompsons, avoiding the too-vivid little girl, Luther’s too-feminine husband. Jared calms his mom when she calls his phone, out of her mind with worry because _why didn’t you say anything, Jared_ , and Jared can’t find the balls to edge anywhere close to the truth, so he makes up a shitty lie, as always.

“Can Colin stay the night?” and she doesn’t miss a beat with her, “ _Of course, sweetie; is he with you? ’Cause his mom called and nobody knows where you boys are, please come home soon, okay?”_

Jared says, “Okay,” and something about hearing his mother so genuinely worried tugs at his softer kid-side. He really wants to go home.

Jared waves and tells them, “Thanks for everything,” and they wave back and say, “Come again anytime,” and it’ll take another few days for Colin to confide that he kinda pocketed some cash from some random kitchen drawer and that they probably better _not_.

~

Jared gets grounded but tonight Colin’s here and they get a whole assload of food and candy, so. Things will get better. They’re already starting to turn around, after all.

‘Rough day’ he titles the selfie and Jensen’s reply-bubble is immediate.

_jesus fucking christ  
boys  
what happened??_

Jared taps out ‘not much’ and Colin chuckles through his mouthful of gummy worms.

_this is where you say  
‘you should see the other guys’_

_can see them during visiting hours at the hospital loll_

_haha  
lol but honestly.  
what_

_I broke someone’s nose I think  
col says yeah def lmao  
blood fucking everywhere  
should have seen it_

_lol no thanks  
that’s pretty heavy bud  
what the hell happened?  
bullies?_

_pretty much  
yeah_

_what’d they say_

Jared’s thumbs hover for a moment. Colin is quiet, right next to him.

_they said stupid shit about colin_

_aw, man  
like what?_

_just stupid shit  
like, faggot  
and stuff_

_jesus  
that’s rough  
good for you to stand up to assholes like that man  
ain’t nothing wrong with being gay, don’t get me wrong, just.  
you can’t let em push you around  
I mean  
is he though?_

_what?_

_gay_

Jared looks at Colin, who’s looking back at him with that deer-in-the-headlights kinda stare.

After an uncomfortable silence, Jared prompts, “What do you want me to say?”

Colin’s hesitating to put another piece of candy in his mouth. “I dunno,” he mutters.

In the meantime, Jensen’s added ‘ain’t nothing wrong with it, just curious’.

_we don’t know  
*he  
HE doesn’t know I mean_

_hah alright bud  
no shame!  
still plenty of time to figure that one out :)_

Jared taps out, ‘I guess’.

Both the sugar and the little heat Colin’s body has to offer, pressed up against his side like he is, soothe the anxiety clawing at Jared’s guts.

~

Colin stirs him awake with nightmares, sweat-matted sheets.

Colin sobs desperate child-tears into Jared’s fuck-old pajamas.

Jared ear-whispers, “Talk to me,” but Colin won’t. So Jared strokes his hair, his back, until he falls back under.

~

Jared’s basketball-shorts sit well on Colin’s beanpole frame, go down all the way to his knees. Col pulls his socks up as far as they will go.

“Lemme suck you off after practice,” secret-whisper into Col’s shudder-sweet mouth, the almost-white of his too-big front teeth.

Col’s dick throbs warm and thick against Jared’s pressed-flat palm as he nods, girlfriend-true.

Jared’s bench material most of the season, but he is okay with running laps and watching the others. Saved his ass from failing his grade couple of times now. Coach hasn’t given up on him yet.

Nothing quite like turning and spotting Colin though, every time, without fail—eyes always on Jared, like there’s nobody else in the world.

Jared would have traded his little sister for a boy-sibling for anything. But Col and him, that’s beyond brotherhood.

Colin’s nasty and obedient and smart-mouthed and badass. Tastes like cigarettes and Jared’s dick and it’s so, so right.

Colin’s still bare where Jared’s starting to grow hair, and Jared doesn’t have to say a word to tease him for it. Just licking up that bare skin stretched between navel and cock, rubbing his hand over it. It drives Col completely wild.

Jared’s been semi-hard in his shorts for the better part of practice but now he’s growing a wet spot he swears he can smell strong and stronger with every shaky breath from Colin’s mouth.

Jared’s been born without a gag reflex (or Col’s dick is just convenient in size).

Colin mouths something about God, and then Jared, Jared, _Jared_.

Jared swallows like the girls in the movies do—minus the part when they push it back out between their lips.

He’s dirty-soaked enough as is.

The night air barely claws at the temperatures. A regular summer’s night—eternal, immortal.

On their way to Mom’s car in the parking lot, Colin gets a hold of Jared’s hand.

Jared twines their fingers together and keeps walking.

~

_not so bad, bud!_

He doesn’t care if it’s a lie. Beggars can’t be choosers.

_you should come by my place sometime  
I can teach you_

_mom’s already paying one teacher lol_

_jay  
come on now  
free of charge of course_

_yeah gimme like  
another millennia or something lol_

He puts the phone away to focus on the guitar in his hand. Still feels fucking weird, like he’s doing everything wrong. Which ain’t far from the truth, probably. But: everything at its time.

Col’s still naked and put away Jared’s Switch a while ago. Just stares him down with those big, too-wise eyes of his.

“What.”

“Nothing.”

“Do I look dumb or something?”

“Kinda.”

Jared scoffs.

“But mainly, like, real hot.”

Jared scoffs louder, offended.

Colin promises, “Honest,” and slips closer. “Starting to get what you see in him.”

“Whom?”

Colin grins. “Jensen, _duh_ ,” like it’s obvious, and Jared feels the heat climbing up his neck.

“Shut up.”

Colin continues, “You wanna be his groupie,” because he’s a snake and likes to poke and prod at whatever weak spot Jared will offer. “You wanna kiss his feet and climb in his lap and…”

Jared glares at the know-it-all currently on his knees, easing his knowing hands underneath the brand-new guitar in Jared’s lap.

“…suck his big, fat—”

Jared insists, “I don’t,” but it’s never been a real argument, has lost all its right to the moment Col’s managed to wrap his lips around his quickly-exposed dick.

Jared groans, lifts the guitar.

Col prompts, “Keep going,” with his mouth generously full, and Jared groans harder.

Jared’s already empty and boneless by the time Colin’s too-soft voice reaches him again. Has those skin-and-bones fingers tugging at his nipples and swallows, helpless, blissed.

“You think he has a big one? You want it?”

“He’s, uh, kinda big everywhere,” blabbers Jared, entirely lost with his body torn between another round and surrender.

“You want him in your mouth?”

Jared’s eyes slip shut and he hums, indecisive. Col pushes his tongue into his slack mouth and doesn’t stop with his goddamn hands.

“Bet he’d do it if you’d ask.”

More kisses, laps along Jared’s teeth, his lips.

“You like it in your mouth.”

Jared nods, salivating. He’s never thought about any of this stuff before Colin came along and fucked him up.

“Lie on your bed so I can fuck your mouth, then.”

“ _Col_ , shit.”

Col laughs. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

Jared’s on his back faster than Colin can climb after him.

Still giggling, because he’s right, he’s always right. Jared’s stomach turns in embarrassment, hand caught in the cookie jar. Colin’s dick slides down his throat too-easy.

Jared’s nose squishes up against that pubic bone.

Colin doesn’t have much weight to work with, but he makes it count. He huffs—mean, pleased, casual. Jared’s hands are curled around the slim nothings of Col’s thighs; not pulling or pushing, just—there.

Jared prefers the vids where the cute little things just lie back and take it. Colin’s seen him losing it too many times to that shit for it not to stick.

Colin’s trash mouth keeps running, “Lemme use that throat,” but it’s quieter, so much softer than what he’s accustomed to from porn, and it should be off, but it isn’t.

Jared’s eyes slip close.

It’s an embarrassing slap of skin on skin, lined with too-much spit.

Would be different with Jensen.

Harsher. Bigger.

Jared’s spent body love-sighs in secret.

~

“Lookin’ good, champ.”

Jared looks up at Dad, who’s smiling down at him with intent. One hand buried in his pocket, one on the back of the sofa (for support).

Dad points to the left side of his own face. “Healing up nicely.”

“I guess.”

Dad makes an appreciative sound but doesn’t leave.

Jared’s hand hovers towards the TV remote. “Everything okay?”

Dad rushes, “Yeah,” and, “yeah, c-can you, uhm, turn that down just a little, I—can we talk? For a minute? Won’t be long, I promise.”

Jared mutes the damn thing and Dad takes the most uncomfortable seat on the armrest of the sofa.

“Listen,” he says, hands in his lap and closer than he’d been to Jared in ages. “About…Colin.”

Oh.

“That incident, I mean.” Again, pointer to Jared’s nearly-faded black eye. “Listen, Jared, if you…I mean, if you ever wanted to…talk.”

Jared repeats, “Talk.”

“Yeah, talk.” Dad gives a helpless smile. He looks like he’s sweating. “Only if you want to, of course, but—you can talk to me, okay?” He add-repeats, dumbly, “It’s okay to talk to me about it.”

Jared stares at him. His tongue is split between surprise and sarcasm. Between ‘where were you _months_ ago?’ and ‘well, he’s trying’.

Jared offers an, “Okay,” and Dad nods gratefully.

“Great,” he says, “okay. Yeah.” He pats Jared on the shoulder just a little too hard.

Jared adds, “Thanks, Dad,” and just wants this over with.

“Your mom and I,” says Dad, and his voice lowers for that and isn’t as play-pretend anymore, not as stressed—almost something like…genuine. “We love you very much, Jared.”

Jared blinks. Clears his throat.

“Love you too, Dad.”

~

Colin’s mom is the kind of woman who would get all the perfume TV ad jobs if only she was, like, thirty years younger.

Caroline’s a fragile, skinny thing with thin, long hair that she takes good care of. She’s got Colin hooked into one arm, her purse around the other.

Jared’s sympathy towards her has taken its toll over the past couple of days, but she smokes like a chimney and doesn’t mind if her teenage son does, too.

“We’ll slip by your brother later, get a refill.” She winks, and Colin smiles back politely.

There’s a few errands to run and Jared has been invited to come along because _I never see you anymore, you should really come over for dinner sometime—did you grow again?_

Colin and Jared mingle in the drug store isles while Caroline picks up her and her boyfriend’s prescriptions. It’s boring, but at least Colin doesn’t have to go through it by himself.

They pass the safer sex section and Colin doesn’t say anything but he slows down, eyes scanning the selection like a—consideration.

Jared gets a shy side-eye and a step-up to his heartbeat.

Caroline catches up with them and cheers, “You boys need anything?” and upon identifying their source of interest, gives a chortle. “Aren’t you a bit young for…” Her laughing eyes go from Colin to Jared and stay there.

Colin assures, “We were just looking, Mom,” while Jared gets his soul completely read by that woman.

“No, you know what?” she says, raising both her eyebrows, her red-nailed hand wrestling a fruit-flavored pack of condoms from the display. “It’s good to be prepared.”

“Mom…”

“No, don’t worry, I’m getting you this. Starter pack.”

“ _Mom_.”

“You can thank me later,” she says with her heels clicking back to the register.

Colin deflates. Out of pure helplessness, Jared laughs at him.

Jared insists that he’s not hungry, but Caroline grabs all of them a hot dog. They wolf them down seated at a bus stop, white paper napkins on their knees because we have manners, Colin.

Caroline re-adjusts her lipstick, after.

“You need anything, Col?”

Colin says, “I’m good.”

Caroline points towards the Goodwill down the street.

Colin sighs. “No, I’m _good_ , Mom.”

“Just for me, please, baby. You know how much I love going shopping, and neither Neil nor your brother are enough fun to do that with…”

Jared doesn’t miss the frustration in Colin’s entire body language as he finally crumbles with his, “Okay,” while Caroline re-hooks their arms and giggles like a schoolgirl.

“Thank you, sweetheart. You’re the best.”

Colin gets a wet smooch on his cheek and doesn’t look Jared in the eye.

~

“This one would suit you so well!”

“That’s too big for me.”

“What?” She looks at the XXL shirt she’s holding up, tilts her head. “Now, is it? You’re growing, it’ll surely fit in a few weeks.”

Colin sighs. “Mom, we can look for stuff for you, if you want. I got a bunch of stuff from Jared’s brother, I don’t need anything.”

Across the endless racks of assorted clothes, Caroline throws the sweetest little-girl look. “Really?”

Colin smiles, “Really,” and Jared has the sneaking suspicion that this was the goal from the beginning.

Over in the ladies’ section, Caroline makes honest happy-noises, like she’s just won the lottery. Pulls every third item out to hold it in front of her emaciated body for Colin to judge, and Colin’s a good son and plays along.

Jared trails behind, runs his hand along the hangers—a satisfying, artificial clack-clack-clack of plastic meeting plastic. Elevator music whispers into the wide empty, the stuffed nooks and crannies of the store.

Colin says, “That’s cute,” and Jared looks up, sees the little embroidered top Caroline’s B-cups would fill out just so, but she pouts after a look at the price tag and returns it to the rack.

Jared retrieves it, inspects it. It’s eight American dollars.

A side-eye to the Fords—still caught up in their odd dress-up game. A swipe across the ceiling for potential cameras.

The top is off the hanger and in the back of his baggy jeans in the blink of an eye.

Jared catches up in a lazy stroll, arms behind his back.

~

“We can just wait outside.”

“What? No. There’s cars here. It’ll just be a minute.”

Colin surrenders. Jared’s right behind him.

“Brock, baby.”

“Hey, Mom.” Brock’s in his work uniform, his shit-eating, panty-melting smile. “Hey, kiddos.”

Jared gives a polite, “Hi,” while Colin pretends to be invisible.

Caroline gets comfortable at the register, squints at the selection of smokes. “Can you get me a… hm…”

“Mom, you’re gonna get me fired.” Brock digs an open pack of smokes from the back pocket of his jeans, holds them out for her. She pouts but accepts them. “At least let me get my paycheck first. What happened to the carton I gave you on Monday?”

Caroline makes a guilty face.

Brock drops his head, sneers. “Fuckin’ Neil.”

“Don’t talk about him like that.”

“Why not? Ain’t my dad. Sure as fuck ain’t his.” Brock gives a dismissive nod towards Colin. “You spreading your legs for him ain’t—”

Jared is the only one who startles with the sudden smack of the backhand.

Brock offers an empty, “Sorry,” and Caroline announces, “We’re leaving. Thank you.”

Golden hour settles in beautifully. Turns asphalt into gold, dull smoker skin into an otherworldly glow; angelic, ethereal.

Caroline’s looking back at Jared, true pain in her eyes—for whomever. “I’m very sorry that you had to see that, Jay.”

“It’s okay.”

She attests, “I didn’t raise him like that,” while she’s lighting one of Brock’s smokes.

The walk back to the trailer park is long, mildly scenic. It’s a thorn in the community’s eye, despite it sitting right in front of the beautiful wildlife reserve. Attracts the wrong kind of people, they say. Rumor has it that Amazon would like to build a warehouse down here.

Neil’s Harley is in the front yard, and Jared hesitates.

Colin notices, always does. “You need to go home?”

Consideration. There’s an invisible vice on Colin, pulling him after his mother, who is looking back at Jared, too, with the same kind of dread in her longing eyes.

“I’ll stay for dinner,” Jared says. “If that’s alright.”

Caroline whips up a smile, a, “Of course, sweetie,” and Colin’s mouth tries its very, absolute best.

The TV is loud all the way up to the porch. The trailer creaks upon them entering it with their combined weight, as little as that might be.

Neil gives a side-glance from his armchair, a second one when he spots the teens trailing after Caroline.

Jared immediately feels like an intruder.

“There you are, angel! Come on over, would ya?”

Caroline slips her heels off and saunters off, leaves Colin and Jared with the tiny shopping bags. She slips into Neil’s lap, puts her arms around his neck. Jared averts his eyes upon the loud kissing noises.

He helps Colin prepare the meal—Neil doesn’t like veggies so there’s just peas and Hamburger Helper. Neil and Caroline migrate over to their bedroom eventually, TV still on way too loud but Jared still hears every slap and suck of them having sex through the paper-thin walls.

Colin’s eyes avoid Jared.

They set the folding table; drive-through napkins and paper plates. Caroline isn’t a fan of doing the dishes.

Neil emerges the bedroom with a generous sigh, reeking of the obvious. There’s no belt in his pants. “Dinner’s ready?”

Col confirms, “Yeah,” and Neil replies, “Good.” He opens the jug of milk sitting in the middle of the table and drinks straight from it, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, puts the jug back down, throws the cap after it. “Your mom’s gonna join us later, she’s tired.”

The three of them eat their humble dinner. Jared’s head is starting to ache with the constant scream of the TV speakers but seeing Colin this scared and quiet is enough to tell him that he better not opens his mouth unless something is, like, literally on fire.

“So,” Neil burps, “and you are?”

“Uh, Jared.”

“’Uh-Jared’. And?”

“And what?”

“Full name?”

“Padalecki. Jared Padalecki.”

Neil’s eyes narrow. There’s pea-residue caught in his moustache. “You a Polack or somethin’?”

“No, uh, I was born—here.”

Neil grunts his disapproval, shakes his head. “Lettin’ anything into this country these days.” He transfers Caroline’s share of meat onto his own plate. “You go to school with Col, or?”

“Yeah, we’re. We’re in the same class.”

Neil chews open-mouthed, one elbow on the table. Gives Jared a long look, point-circles his finger around the left side of his face. “Quite the badass, huh.”

Jared’s neck feels stiff. “Uh, not really.”

Neil mocks, “’Uuuuh’,” and loads his mouth with another forkful. “Colin here told me about it. So, no need to be shy, kid.” A quick side-eye, but Neil keeps talking. “Colin’s quite the smart-mouth, so I get you. Gets a lot after a while. Good for you to put him in his place; he needs that from time to time. Just surprised.” Neil clears his sinuses, takes another swig of the milk. “How he managed to give you _that_. Didn’t know that little fag could do much more damage than a goddamn cotton ball. Anyway.”

Neil’s done eating. He wipes his oily face with the napkin and balls it up, throws it onto the table. He leans back in the folding chair—his chest is bare, tattooed, hairy.

“Boys will be boys,” he says, flashes some gold in his teeth. “Am I right?”

~

The air is filled to the brim with barbecue, charcoal, beer. Still better than inside the trailer. Jared’s stomach hurts.

Colin says, “See? Over there,” and they stop walking here—several feet shy of where Col’s pointing.

Jensen’s camper sits right by the edge of the forest. Secluded, incredibly small.

From the videos and photos, Jared never would have guessed.

“He’s been here for, like, four months or so. Nobody’s seen him around much. He’s either in there or in town with his car.”

Jared uh-hums with his eyes stuck on the beat-up Cadillac. Has seen it on Insta, Jensen with a pretty girl in it, her bare legs and low-cut dress.

“Keeps to himself but isn’t, like, weird. I guess.” Colin shrugs, both of his hands in the pockets of his shorts. “Or so they say. But everyone’s _some_ kind’a weird around here, so.”

Jared’s still speechless. He never thought it’d be so…easy?

Colin’s eyes bore through him so he turns to meet them. Is asked, “You wanna go say hi?” and _feels_ his stomach contracting.

Jared puts a hand to his belly and looks at the camper again.

“He’s, uh. Probably not even…at home.”

Colin scoffs. “You don’t _have_ to.”

“I dunno, it would be weird,” decides Jared, and turns on his heel to walk back to the Fords’ trailer.

~

Jared’s room is his kingdom, his fort. It’s got everything he needs and more—a collection of games and consoles, his own TV. Too-many clothes litter the floor, unimportant; empty Monster cans and colorful stains in the carpet his parents wished they never installed in this particular room.

Colin’s so speechless Jared has to tell him to, “Lift your arms,” so he can slip the top on him right.

“You didn’t have to,” murmurs Col, adorable, with his dick out and everything and shier than Jared fathomed he could possibly be.

Jared’s hands slide from collar bones to chest, the scratchy little frills of the detailed neckline—the too-soft, coffee-brown rayon.

“You look cute, though,” breathes Jared, mouth-to-mouth, his hungry fingers finding and twisting, milking.

Colin drapes his arms around his neck and sways on his too-thin legs.

Colin’s as pink in his face as he is between his legs. “This—that’s f-for. Girls, though.”

“So what.”

Sometimes it’s just fast and easy, like that. Feels like nothing, a natural thing. A wet lip and a crooked finger, Col’s bare legs and stringy, blue toes.

Jared’s rutting into the circle Col’s hand provides, drums with the sweat-damp slide of those other fingers on his hole. They’re a tangle of limbs, eyes closed. Nothing but the might and will of their bodies, searching, finding, discarding.

Colin sucks at his tit hard enough to leave a mark, so Jared returns the favor. They’re both tanned but Jared’s more olive where Colin’s more yellow.

Jared’s phone rings with Deep Purple.

It tugs him by the balls and out of his headspace—has him blinking, confused.

Col’s breathless below him, and Jared digs for the phone, delirious.

Pants, “Yeah?”

“ _Hey, hi._ ” Jensen pauses. “ _You okay there, bud?_ ”

“Yeah, jus’, uh.” He clears his throat. Colin giggles. “Jus’ kinda, busy. What is it?”

A short consideration on the other side of the line. Colin’s finger presses pointedly _down_. “ _Well, I don’t wanna interrupt anything_ ,” and there’s a smirk imbedded in there; Jared can _see_ it.

“You’re not,” he says, and pumps his Colin-deep fingers.

Jensen grunts an adorable laugh right into Jared’s ear. Jensen’s breath whistles through the short gap that you get if your tongue barely-darts between your teeth.

“ _Have fun. I’ll call you later._ ”

“Later. Bye.”

“ _Bye, Jared._ ”

Colin laughs first and Jared joins in, his heart somewhere between his ears.

~

Colin’s sugar-high and free. Twirls the cord of his one lonely necklace around his finger and Jared never wants anything else.

“Ask him if…he ever kissed another guy.”

Jared’s mouth curls with conspiracy.

Colin looks like he loves him a little more when he taps the words out, hits ‘send’ without hesitation.

_now  
that’s an interesting question  
there’s a lot of different kisses_

Colin dictates, “On the mouth, with tongue,” and Jay texts.

_hah ok  
well I mean there’s things you do when you’re drunk haha  
but you’re gonna see what I mean in a few years ;)  
what about you  
?_

Jared throws a daring look, and Colin just shrugs, grins.

Jared sends a pic of them touching tongues.

_shit  
well that answers some questions haha  
you guys are so cute_

_what questions lol_

_things are just more fun with a friend  
if you know what I mean_

Jared sends another pic.

_lol yea I guess  
I know exactly what you mean_

Jensen takes a hot second to reply, and Jared would feel bad if Colin wasn’t clearly as hard as him.

_you guys do that a lot?  
taking pics or yourselves like that?_

_all the time  
it’s fun_

_they’re definitely nice pics haha  
told you before you guys should start modeling  
you got more?_

Jared flicks through the collection they’ve built up—has to palm himself over his shorts and that’s enough incentive for Col to finally give in and crawl over to him, on his knees in front of Jared’s office chair and tugging Jared’s drippy dick free to get his mouth on it.

Jared sends two, three, four. His dick looks damn good in the last one.

Jensen types fast, and the tip of Jared’s dick hits the back of Colin’s tight little throat.

_you guys are so hot  
anyone tell you that, jay?_

_nah  
just us_

_hope you know though  
real fucking hot_

“He says we’re hot,” stammers Jared, and Col pulls off to order, “Tell him you think he’s hot, too,” and Jared whines-throat-deep too soon too quick again and has both hands on his phone for comfort.

_you’re way hotter_

_aww  
you really think so?_

_yea_

_I didn’t know_

_how can you not know  
you’re like, SO hot_

_so hot it gets your dick hard, jay?_

Jared whines.

“What’s he say?”

“H-he’s uh, asking i-if, if it gets my dick hard, thinking about him.”

Col’s laugh bounces against the hard line of Jared’s cock and back into his own face. “Tell him ‘totally’.”

_totally_

Jared’s thrumming. He’s gonna blow in, like, a spiritual way.

_is it hard right now?_

_yea_

_show me_

Jared’s vision blurs and he rucks his top up to expose the barely-there shadow of his treasure trail, the tight suck of Colin’s mouth. He snaps a picture, sends it.

_jesus  
you guys are nasty haha  
you do this every time we text?_

_not /every/ time_

_he doin a good job down there?_

_oh yea_

_tell him_

“So good, Col.”

_tell him to suck just the tip  
film it_

Jared pants, “He wants me to film you,” and Colin’s lashes swoop pretty. “Suck just the tip. Yeah. Exactly. G-god…”

He can barely hold the phone steady and comes mid-roll, all for the strict swipe of Col’s tongue and the up-down search of his eyes—Jared or the lens, lens or Jared.

He hits ‘send’ on the video and Jensen hasn’t found the words to reply yet by the time Colin’s pushed his come back and forth between their mouths.

Col hugs him, cradled chest to face and Jared catches his breath here, surrounded by that bare, familiar smell of him, his phone-arm extended to the side so he can read.

_ooooh you guys_  
_you’re gonna get me in so much trouble_  
_[devil emoji]_

~

The world is too small for the size of his heart.

His bones rattle with it, quivering like ruins about to fall.

Every day feels huge, and open, and better.

Jeff and him share a long, long eye-to-eye after Jeff barges into the bathroom, catches his little brother without his t-shirt on—the red-blue circle of teeth above his heart.

Finally, Jeff scoffs, disgusted. Uncomfortable. “Move. I need to shit.”

He wants the whole world to know—to hate him, look at him like they do—Neil, Brock, Jeff. Like he’s an alien. Like they’re scared of him.

He grunts, “Do one on my neck,” and Colin asks him three times if he’s sure.

Jared gets more detention and a new nickname.

He isn’t afraid.

~

The webcam feed clicks alive on screen.

Jensen’s already topless.

He blows his lungful of smoke sideways, eyes hooded. The lighting is shit. “ _Hey, boys._ ”

Col flirts, “Hey,” and Jared just smiles, eyes locked with the camera lens.

“ _Aren’t you melting? It’s like, what, still a hundred degrees out there._ ” Jensen speaks around the joint wedged into the side of his mouth so he has both hands free to pour himself a drink. “ _It’s just us guys, y’know._ ”

Col pulls Jared’s shirt over his head and Jared tongue-kisses him once his face is free again.

Jensen chuckles, unseen.

“ _That’s the spirit._ ”

Jensen likes watching them, directing them. He’s got great ideas that feel like Jared’s very own thoughts.

Jared kind of lives for the scarce, little happy-noises.

“ _Mh_ ,” says Jensen, his index finger straightening with a brainwave. “ _Col, why don’t you suck on Jay’s tit for a second. Get it real hard so I can see._ ”

They do that. Jared’s been hard all day thinking about this and thinks he’s gonna go cross-eyed with it soon. There’s only his shorts, his necklace.

Col’s nursing on him all demure, eyes closed and sweet. Jared’s dick is gonna burn a hole into the fucking polyester of his shorts.

“ _Feels good?_ ”

Jared murmurs, “Yeah,” eyes from Col to the screen; Jensen absently playing with his bottom lip, smiling when he realizes he’s being watched.

Jensen confides, chuckling, “ _Shit, I’m hard already._ ”

“Show me,” says Jared, and Colin looks up at that.

Jensen shy-boy laughs, scratches at his beard. Says, “ _Shit_ ,” again, and, “ _this is all your fault, y’know._ ”

Jensen stands up just to get his shorts down low enough for his cock to slap free—grabs it by the base, strokes it with his hand turned upside-down; his beautiful, beautiful hand.

Jared hunger-sighs, “Fuck,” and Colin just swallows.

Jensen ducks back into the frame, his eyes in adorable creases because he’s smiling so wildly. “ _Two of you are somethin’. Makin’ me do this here for your entertainment. Pretty dirty, if you ask me._ ”

“Your turn.”

“ _For what?_ ”

“Tellin’ us what to do,” says Jared, and Jensen’s sprawled in his chair now, cock in hand and in full view—every vein and the thick, meaty head of it.

Jensen hums, considering, his cheek resting on the knuckles of his left hand while the right one languidly strokes his dick.

“ _Jay_ ,” he says, “ _put his dick in your mouth._ ”

Colin gets to his knees so Jared can pull his shorts down but stays there when they realize it’s a comfortable height.

Jared watches himself sticking his tongue out, swiveling the head before he purses his lips, takes all of it.

Colin deep-chuckles, scrubs through his too-long mop of hair in encouragement.

“ _God, you’re good at that, ain’t you._ ”

Colin testifies, “His favorite,” and Jensen just purrs in response.

Jared’s closing his eyes it’s so good. Let’s Colin fuck his face like he wants; soft and slow as per usual. He peeks at the screen, finds Jensen glassy-eyed, hand working relentlessly.

Their eyes find each other, and Jensen barely-bites his lip. Turns his knuckles so he can press his teeth into them instead.

“ _Ever fingered him, Jay?_ ”

Col giggles, embarrassed, and Jared just snorts. Slips off that dick just to get his finger wet, and Colin’s knees part just enough.

Jensen doesn’t see a thing but he’s growling like he can.

Jared lisps, “Like that?” around his tongue, the tip of Col’s dick balanced on it and Col sweet-sighs.

Jensen makes a hunger-noise. “ _Gonna be the death of me._ ”

Jared laughs, looks up at Col’s face. Angles a second finger and pushes, and Col’s face is dark and soft. Two hands in Jared’s hair now, puppy-huff.

“ _God. You don’t even know how hot you two are right now._ ”

“Get your hand wet,” prompts Colin.

Jared’s eyes hurt from going sideways this hard but he’d happily go blind to see Jensen lapping at his fucking hand.

He shows it off—the drippy glimmer of it in the shitty screen light.

“ _Happy?_ ”

“Now get it on your fucking dick. Fuck your hand.”

Jensen laughs, does it. “ _That was two, Col. Show me where he’s fucking you. Lemme see that pussy._ ”

Colin laughs, rude. Tries to shuffle, but it won’t quite work.

“ _Spread your ass._ ”

Colin laughs, again, unsure. “Uh, I can’t exactly…”

“ _Come on, you can do it, babe._ ”

“Don’t ‘babe’ me, I’m not your fucking girlfriend!”

“Col—”

“No, I don’t wanna do it. I ain’t gonna.” And with that, Col twists out of Jared’s hands, sits his ass down on the bed, and glares all tight-lipped at Jared.

Who is perplexed.

Jensen snorts. “ _Okay, no pressure._ ”

Jared mouths, ‘what the fuck?’. Col just glares.

“ _Come on now, getting all lonely over here. Jay. You still with me?_ ”

“I’m—sure, yeah.”

“ _C’mon you guys, it’s alright. Stop it with that face, Col, c’mon, you looked so cute just now. Why don’t you hug him, Jay? Yeah, that’s it. We’re here to have fun, aren’t we? God, look at you two. My two beautiful boys. How about a kiss for Jay, huh? Didn’t he suck your dick so good a minute ago, Col?_ ”

Col licks into Jared’s stupid mouth, more attacking than kissing. Jared huffs, shoves back. Colin’s climbed him in a matter of seconds and their faces must be out of frame now but Col’s softening now, sucking on Jared’s tongue as he holds his wrists down and humps their dicks together.

Jared’s overwhelmed.

“ _There you go._ ”

Col scoots low and lower until he can bury his face in Jared’s lap, kitten-lap at him all messy and Jared shudders, hard; Jensen’s not better off.

“ _Such a good fucking boy for us, Col._ ”

Jared sees Colin side-eyeing the screen—gets his right hand, laps at his middle finger and reaches that under-behind Jared.

Jared’s balls pull tight.

One hand into Col’s hair and Col looks back at him, slick-pets at his hole to make him pliable. Sticks his tongue out and proceeds to swallow all of Jared’s dick down his throat.

Jared gasps.

He hears, “ _Fuck him,_ ” but Col looks up at him at that—awaiting his permission.

Jared’s sweating, his abs trembling. “Uhm, I don’t…”

Jensen grins, “ _First time?_ ”

“No, I just, uh. I don’t really like it.”

“ _Then you gotta relax more._ ”

“Listen: he doesn’t want to, so leave it.”

Jensen scoffs, a frown playing around his brows. “ _Alright, geez! Relax._ ”

Jared’s interest has flagged, but he pulls Colin’s mouth back on his dick to keep him from ruining it further.

~

All that Brock has left to show from high school are the broad shoulders he gained during football.

Colin and him are only half-brothers. Jared’s never seen anyone with eyes like Brock.

“So, Colin sent you?” he asks, his Zippo licking at his cigarette; he beckons Jared over, close enough so he can light Jared’s cig with his own. His lighter slips back into his pocket.

Jared takes a deep first inhale, nods. “We’re all out.”

Brock scoffs, his smoke crammed between his too-full lips. “Sure sounds like him.”

The highway is just a few feet away, curves into the air like a Hot Wheel trail, like in GTA. The air whips both of their too-long hair around, has Jared’s nipples harden under his worn-out shirt.

He feels Brock’s eyes on him, on the fading marks adorning his neck like a collar.

“Are you two datin’ or somethin’?”

Jared looks up at him. First time anyone’s got the balls to ask him that.

Jared was so pumped to get asked that he didn’t think of an answer yet.

He shrugs. “Not really.”

Brock sneers. “Slut.”

“What?”

“I said you’re a _slut_ ,” repeats Brock, beautiful and mean and standing tall, the bright colors of his polyester uniform shirt dancing in the wind. “Just like him. You two go well together, I’ll tell you that.”

Jared frowns, narrows his eyes. “Who _hurt_ you, man?”

Brock laughs. “Why don’t you suck my fucking _dick_ , Padalecki? Fuck off. Fucking _freak_.”

Jared’s job was to get a whole pack of smokes but he kinda blew his chance on that, huh.

He gets to his feet so he can leave, but Brock puts his boot against his shoulder and shoves him back down.

“What the— _fuck_?!”

Brock’s laughter grows more confident, louder. “What, too sore to get up, faggot?”

Jared tosses the cigarette and begins to crawl, but Brock’s got long, thick legs and catches him, drags him up by the collar of his shirt, rucks him up to his knees.

Their faces are inches apart. The cherry of Brock’s smoke is searing hot, close, in Jared’s peripheral.

Gritted, “Let me go.”

Brock’s calm with his shock-blue eyes hooded, unblinking. “So you can do what, exactly?”

“What did I ever do to you?”

Brock hums, “You think you’re somehow special ’cause he lets you stick your little thing in him?” and Jared grunts, “It’s not like that.”

Brock tosses him onto the asphalt; the back of his head thuds down, hard.

Brock’s spit hits him on the cheek.

“He’s just like our mom. Suck and fuck for a buck. You’re being used and you don’t even know.”

More spit. Jared keeps his eyes pressed closed.

Drop, sizzle, crush of boot across asphalt.

“Nothing crawling out of that woman’s gonna amount to anything but dirt,” hisses Brock, and with that, he stomps back into the gas station.

Jared catches his breath, down on the hot asphalt—feels the heat of it burn his skin right through his clothes, feels the wind climb into the legs of his shorts.

Brock’s spit dries in a matter of seconds.

~

Jensen’s voice drawls from Jared’s phone, crawls into their ears, under their skin.

Jared non-blinks against the cruel sun.

Colin smokes in silence with his hand shading the ring of hickeys Jared didn’t put there. His head rests on Jared’s shoulder. Their respective sweat soaks through Jared’s shirt. He doesn’t feel it.

Some seniors are playing basketball across the court. The rubber floor reeks. A red lava sea. The ball smacks down, hard, hard, fast.

“Do you think,” murmurs Colin, quiet, knees pulled tight against himself, “it’ll get easier? Someday?”

Jensen howls, soul-deep, “[The Prairie Sky, is Wide and High / Deep in the Heart of Texas.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V5odfEseEJ4)”

The player misses the hoop. Jared dabs away ashes, not-shrugs.

Says, honestly, “I dunno.”

~

The camper door swings open and Jared inhales on instinct—Jensen’s home-scent, sweat, jizz, pot, dust.

Jensen’s sunny-boy smiling. “There you are.”

Jared smiles. Colin squeezes his hand.

“Well, be my guests.”

They climb in. Jensen closes the door behind them.

Colin immediately swarms for the fridge.

Jensen’s voice is body-close and hollers, “Make yourselves at home. My casa es su casa, et cetera, et cetera… Hey.”

Warm, big hand, straight to Jared’s bare shoulder. He cranes his neck to meet Jensen’s green, mesmerizing eyes.

Secret for him, “Good to see you,” and Jay replies a throat-tight, “Yeah.”

The butterflies are getting in the way of his breathing.

Colin pops the cap of a bottle of Coke off on the edge of Jensen’s countertop and takes it with him to Jensen’s bed. Flops down on it and puts the soda to his mouth, one bare dirty foot on the mattress and the other dangling off of it.

Jensen chortles. Other adults would reprimand; Jensen throws heart-eyes.

Jared joins his friend on the bed, awkward, wrong-skinned. Gets his hair ruffled as he watches Jensen’s pretty backside—he’s rolling a joint, nodding along to the music Jared hasn’t figured out the source of yet.

Jensen’s in too-tight jeans. A huge sweat stain thrones the middle of his upper back.

“You guys hungry?”

Colin claims, “Nah,” and Jared is fine with swallowing his tongue.

His eyes can’t stop finding all those beautiful, minor details—familiar sights but now he’s three-sixty in it, sees the puzzle pieces put together: Jensen’s guitar in the back, notebooks with song lyrics, his beat-up, old-ass laptop, the brand-new-looking DJ-style headphones. The bottles of Jack, empty and full, forming a kingdom of their own, strewn across the entire place. The kitschy fairy lights. The grandma lamp on the nightstand.

Jensen fits himself back-first between them, putting an arm around Colin and handing Jared his lighter.

Jared turns it between his fingers. It reads: _if you wanna fuck, smile when you give this lighter back._

Jensen wedges the joint between his porn star-lips and prompts, “Fire me up, bud,” and of course Jensen gets what Jensen wants.

Jensen takes a deep, first drag; slings his other arm around Jared now and pulls him right up to his side—warm and damp and smelling expensive. Jared can feel the fit bulge of muscle and skin right through that lived-in tee. Jared puts a hand on Jensen’s perfect stomach just because he can get away with it.

He’s gonna die.

“You wanna try?”

Colin shakes his head.

Hopeful, beautiful eyes. “You?”

Jared smiles but shakes his head ‘no’. Col and him talked about this.

Jensen shrugs. “Your loss.”

Jensen’s chest swells with a huge hit. He keeps it in seemingly forever and Colin sips his soda, curiously side-eyeing. The smoke steams out of Jensen with a releasing sigh, through his nose like a dragon.

Jensen’s head lolls backwards, into the pillows. He closes his eyes and Jared shamelessly takes in the thick halo of his lashes. The crow’s feet around his eyes.

Close-up, it begins to dawn on Jared that he might not have been the only one lying about their age.

Jensen kitten-sighs, flirts his fingers along Jared’s bare arm. Chuckles. God, Jared wishes he could smell him through all the pot.

“Jay, baby. Kiss him for me, will ya?”

The tips of Jared’s ears burn scarlet and he obeys immediately, meets Colin halfway on the warm bed of Jensen’s chest. Col’s mouth is cold-sweet, even more so his tongue. Jensen’s hot breath hits their faces from the side, one hand each for the back of their respective neck.

“God, it’s like…double vision.”

Col gets a hold of Jared’s limp hand and presses it atop of the fly of Jensen’s jeans.

Both Jensen and Jared melt at that.

“Shit,” Jensen mumbles, already out of words, “God, you little sluts. _Shit_.”

Jared rubs from palm to wrist and back, covering the whole length—feels it thickening right then and there and pulls his leg tighter around Jensen’s, digs his own crotch against that hip. Col keeps lapping into his mouth like he’s drowning for it and Jared thinks he might be drunk just from existing right here.

“Take off those shirts. C’mon.”

They end up helping Jensen through the biggest part of his own efforts. Jensen’s pretty much bare but for the strip of hair clawing at Jared’s lower arm as he ruts up against his hand, rolling his abs and Jared still can’t believe this is happening.

Jensen hums, turns his head to find the crook of Colin’s neck, buries himself there. Blind-searches for Jared’s head and finds it, pulls him close.

Jared smells his cologne here, his sweat, his skin, shampoo.

Jensen’s beard tickles his cheek as Jensen turns, and Jensen tastes worse than the joint smells.

Jared’s got his eyes slipped shut and doesn’t have to pray long for that tongue to push behind his teeth.

It lasts just for a second and Jensen’s kissing the corner of Jared’s mouth next, along his cheek, his ear. Jared hears a truly reverent, “God,” and Jensen’s hand dips into the back of his shorts.

Colin squeaks and spills his soda as he’s hefted and thrown around to land on his back and one of them starts to laugh so they all chime in; and it _is_ funny, and it _does_ feel good.

“My cute little boys,” smiles Jensen, another drag from his joint and he looks godlike now, shoulders bulging with how he’s leaning over them, his dishwasher blond hair falling out of shape and into his eyes and his rough hand cups Jared’s cheek before it slips down, along his neck and chest and makes a U-turn to travel the other way back up Colin’s side.

Jared feels warm, and seen, and loved. Showered with Jensen’s attention and he’s looking at nothing but them. Nothing else exists in this moment, absolutely nothing.

Jensen leans back on his haunches, so he has both hands free to grab between their legs. It’s just a gentle cup but Jared’s hips jump right into it and Colin gasps too, and Jensen’s smile deepens.

“Dirty little boys.”

Jensen’s hands tilt so he can run the slim sides of them up and down their cracks.

“Things I could do to you right now. You don’t even know.”

Jared croaks, “Please,” and Jensen’s all honey.

“Please what, baby?”

Jensen crooks middle and index to rub at his hole through his shorts.

“You need something?”

The part in Jared screaming its enthusiastic YES can’t tell him what that would be.

His mouth shivers open, frozen.

He doesn’t know.

Col puts his sweetly-sticky hand on his cheek to turn him towards his mouth. Rolls over so he can climb on him, all fours, and Jensen purrs above them until they’re pressed together, Colin in the middle.

Jensen’s smiling over Col’s shoulder, rubs his thumb across-inside Jared’s mouth.

Col keeps cupping his face, looking him in the eye.

You alright?

The pendant on Col’s necklace is body-warm, swinging against Jared’s chin. Jensen’s nicotine fingers feel along his gums, into the gap, follow the slick pulse of his tongue.

Jared blinks.

Colin’s in his arms, under his fingers; covering him, surrounding him.

Jared gags on Jensen’s fingers.

Jensen hums, angles them differently, noses behind Col’s ear.

“We gotta work on that, champ.”

Jared knows it’s gonna happen before it does. And when it does, the universe skitters into slow-motion.

Colin’s head ducks low before it smacks backwards and hits Jensen straight in the nose.

Jensen’s blood is warm and thick. It splatters into Jared’s face from where it soaks the back of Colin’s neck.

There’s an ugly crack and the music is still playing.

Jensen flies backwards, off the bed, and Colin pulls Jared upwards with him by grabbing his hand and not letting go, and they’re on their feet, and they’re running.

They jump out of the banging-open trailer door and race down the gravel path towards the forest.

Jensen is screaming after them but all Jared hears is his breath, and Colin’s, and their bare feet pound-pound-pounding the ground—someone is laughing, manically.

They’re flying.


End file.
